


Wedding Destitution

by moonlitrooftop



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Weddings, i want brienne and jaime to be happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26251744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitrooftop/pseuds/moonlitrooftop
Summary: Found this prompt on tumblrJaime and Brienne attend a destination wedding (Brienne to get closure over her relationship with Renly; Jaime to spite his step sister who recently divorced Renly’s older brother) they form a bond over the course of the wedding
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	1. Summer Isles

**Author's Note:**

> Back on the writing wagon

The Summer Isle; sweltering heat, scantily clad flesh baked with mosquito bites. Renly’s brilliant idea of a destination wedding just had to involve everyone sweating from every nook and cranny of their bodies. What seems to be a wonderful idea on paper and the planning board is now costing all the guests close to a third of a true Valyrian steel sword.

Brienne is cutting it slim herself despite her- well her father’s fortune from the Tarth Resort and Spa and she didn’t even want to be here in the first place. A very pushy and over the top request from the Tyrell’s mixed with a drop of poisonous guilt tripping, has Brienne blocking an entire week for her ex-boyfriend’s wedding to her- now friend, Loras.

_It was a long time ago,_ something Brienne always say when everyone questions her why, _oh why_ is she still friends with her ex who didn’t even wait a whole day to get with his much younger co-worker and is now marrying said co-worker with Brienne present to see the holy matrimony.

Truly, a part of Brienne is a sadist. She must have a taste of the angst. For what is life without it.Brienne lives a quite and sometimes lonely life and heartbreak is no stranger to her, in fact in this case, she welcomes it. What better way to finally put a full-stop to her story with Renly then to watch him march down the aisle to organ music.

Brienne joins the wedding party a day late. In a flimsy attempt to appear aloof perhaps. She stays to the back of the party and interacts with Tyrells, latching herself to a flute of cool champagne at all times. Not a drinker herself, but if one must endure the Tyrells, the Baratheons, the Freys, the Tarlys and _oh my_ _god_ , the Lannisters, one must drink and drink and drink.

She spies her eyes on two golden blonde heads in the corner caught in a what can only be described as a bitch fight waiting to happen. _Ah must be the Lannisters_. The blonde women had pulled herself up with haughty disdain at the man and poured her drink onto his white shirt. Brienne snorted from behind her own glass.

At times the rich and famous are entertaining in their out-of-this-world conduct. Their usual decorum can be thwarted with the right amount of potent liquor. 

So potent in fact Brienne feels a little drunk and woozy herself.

She moves past a giggling group of young beautiful harpies who spluttered at the sight of Brienne. She let that reaction slide of her shoulders and makes her way to an open door and _oh fresh air._ A little walk in the gardens might return her equilibrium.

A retching sound came from a nearby bush and Brienne automatically went into a defensive stance which was proving hard, in the tight slinky dark blue dress Margaery Tyrell stuck her into earlier that evening. She realised someone was vomiting.

Jaime’s entire body content must have been emptied onto the bush. So much so he feels extremely wrung out and the dry heaving is not helping. He feels a light stroking on his back and wonders if its Cersei. The most beautiful heinous woman he has ever met who is also his step-sister slash ex-lover who couldn’t squeeze a drop of empathy from her cold, cold heart. 

So, no it can’t be Cersei.

“There, there,” the hand spoke. A deep feminine voice.

Bent over with only the dark green of the leaves in his immediate view, he could see the tail end of a shimmering dark blue dress.

Jaime continues to retch. How terrible. He has flirted with every single woman in the vicinity to spite Cersei and cajole her to finally accept his proposal. The only way to turn on his charm to anyone not Cersei was to get plastered with champagne. Maybe he took one step too far considering his current predicament.

 _Stop this, Jaime. She doesn’t love you the way you love her,_ Tyrion would say if he saw how pathetic Jaime is right at this moment. But no, Tyrion is not the witness to this downfall, instead a steady present soothing his back and murmuring nonsense placating him is here to help wipe the drool of his face. _Okay_ maybe not to that extent but he hopes she could help him to his room. He would surely drop face first into the dirt without help.

He reaches for a steady hold and clasps his hand around warm, callused fingers.

“Help,” he croaked, his throat dry as a bone.

“O-okay,” she pulls him gently away from the bush and sits him down on a stone bench nearby, “I’ll get you some water and you, you just stay here.”

He immediately slumps on the chair, face on the cool stone.

The woman returns with a tall glass of cold water, crouches down to face him and pokes his cheek.

He cracks open his eyes to find wide arresting blue ones filled with pity. She pulls him up with one hand and gives him the glass. She straightens her posture and his eyes follow up, up, up to the wispy white blond hair. He sees her face. _God, she’s ugly_. A scowl formed on her unfortunate face. Did he say that out loud? He drinks his water still looking up at her.

His eyes threaten to close again and the glass slips from his hand. Quick reflexes from the tall, imposing woman avoids them from picking up glass all night under the moonlight.

“I think its time you head back to your room, sir.” Her tone clipped.

With his eyes closed, “Can you help?”

A long suffering sigh escapes her and she jerks him up.

“God, you’re built like a bull aren’t you.”

She swings him like a rag doll so he faces the way back to the guests quarters. He feels weirdly thrilled to be man handled. Must be his drunken brain.

“One more word from you, and you are sleeping under the staircase.”


	2. Wine and Museum

Today’s itinerary is wine tasting and a museum visit says the overly chipper connoisseur. She peers from the second floor balcony to see the gathering wedding party below. A distinctive blonde head at the periphery of the babbling guests reveals to be the man who had a row in the middle of the party last night, white shirt stained with wine and proceeded to vomit and insulted Brienne before she marched him to his room.

Margaery sidles to her side, hooking an arm around her left.

“Who’s that?” Brienne points to the blonde man— owner to what she recalls now to be very attractive pair of green eyes. She recalls a very attractive face too.

“Oh Jaime? Cersei’s step brother. I see he caught your eyes. Why?” Margeary asks slyly.

Brienne, an expert in diverting conversation topic went with “Why is Cersei even here? I thought she divorced Bobby.”

“Ah..It’s best to keep ties with your enemies.” Margaery says in her best impression of her grandmother, Olenna, the matriarch of the Tyrells.

Wine tasting; for the pompous elite group and to get hammered in the face of the hot summer sun. The event held in a cool upgraded warehouse went as smoothly as it can with the Baratheon’s in attendance. Brienne sampled each wine and was buzzed enough to hum a tune to herself at the rear of the group. They are cattled into the bottling area. While the owner explains the process, a lightweight Tarly guest starts drunk singing. Most guests splutter, grin and a handful join in on the drunk rendition of The Bear and The Fair Maiden.

Brienne had laughed loudly herself before toning down self-consciously. She glances around, to see if anyone heard her and sees an amused Jaime Lannister smirking her way. _Oh crap he’s making his way over._

“I believe I owe you an introduction,” Jaime quips in all his blazing grinning glory.

“I know who you are.” Already annoyed with the man, Brienne takes a sip of the tangy wine and frowns.

“Well in that case, my knight in shining armour with the bluest eyes, Miss....?”

“Brienne Tarth.”

“Ah, she has a name.”

Despite the buzz from everyone around them, the conversation fell off. She feels him fidgeting next to her and she wonders why he hasn’t left to speak to someone more interesting. Brienne had remembered several unsavoury memories of Jaime Lannister since Margaery spoke his name. A celebrated lawyer, beautiful and haughty, turned into a famed betrayer of his superior 10 years ago. Then a million dragon wedding of his half-sister to Robert Baratheon, an up-and-coming politician, tabloids scrambling for any dirt on the Lannisters.

Brienne remembers now a massive cover story on the relationship between Jaime and his half-sister splashed on every printed and online news not 5 years ago.

Jaime keeps looking at her when suddenly a look of recognition,” Wait, didn’t you used to date Renly?” he asks in a incredulous tone.

Date was not the word Brienne would have used, in love was more like it, at least on her part.

“Didn’t you used to date your sister?”

“Step-sister. And at least I’m not here pining on a gay man getting married in 3 days.” He adds with a smirk. _Ah here’s the golden tongue._

“I’m not- that was a long time ago.” Brienne reverts back to her ready defense.

“Too bad you weren’t man enough for him, Tarth.”

Brienne’s eyes flashes with annoyance, “What is wrong with you?”

“The wine lowers the mind’s filter. I apologise.” He raises his hands looking rightfully guilty, one holding a flute of wine.

“Seriously, you saved yourself from that family’s drama.” He looks pointedly at Renly’s direction who was now having an argument with a Baratheon cousin.

Cersei catches his eyes when he looks away from Renly. He reverts back to Brienne instead, the one with the fetching blue eyes.

Brienne sees how Jaime avoided Cersei’s lingering looks and raises her eyebrow.

“Lannister, your step-sister is coming this way.” Brienne doesn’t know why she warned him, perhaps the effect of the wine as well.

A look of panic ran on Jaime’s face, he pulls Brienne to the direction of a door leading to the barrel storage.

They step into the cold room and goosebumps rushes onto Brienne’s forearms. The cool temperature is wholly welcomed so Brienne didn’t protest to being dragged away.

Jaime finishes his wine,” Nothing good comes from talking to that witch.”

She splutters,” Witch? I thought you love her?”

“Loved. Now she’s just a bitch who broke my heart, apparently.”

“So what are you doing here, Lannister?”

“It’s Jaime, and I’m talking to my knight in shining armour.” He says with an insufferable smirk.

Brienne rolls her eyes, “ Here at the wedding I mean.”

He looks thoughtful for a moment, then ,”Some sort of closure, I guess.” He glances at her from the corner of his eyes,” And you?”

“Something along the same line.”

He gives her a small smile which she returns and somehow revealing their motive to each other seem to alleviate some awkwardness from their interaction.

As some sort of a silent agreement, Jaime and Brienne stuck by each other all the way from being herded out of the winery and into a black van that doesn’t seem to have enough room for their long legs. 

Jaime stands at 6’1” and Brienne towers over him by 2 inches.They had to fold their legs awkwardly in the van all the way to the museum. And the heat did not help one bit.

Museums: A place Jaime quite like and could spend hours in just to avoid the heat. Jaime doesn’t expect much from the small museum, which was pleasantly surprising to see such an impressive collection of historical weapons especially those dated around the rule of King Robert Baratheon, which was around the time of the Long Night. Jaime hopes to see a true Valyrian steel sword and is awarded with Long Claw, the blade wielded by the bastard of House Stark.

However the most surprising thing is perhaps how equally entranced by the exhibition Brienne is. She matches his knowledge in medieval weaponry step by step and even has different trivia of her own which she gladly informed Jaime. He found that he likes her this way, enthusiastic and bold.

  
  


Brienne doesn’t want to admit it, but by the 2nd hour at the museum, she’s having fun going through the exhibition with Jaime Lannister of all people. Who would have thought the golden Lannister son has a knack for history and weaponry?

She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her but she has been sharing all she knew about the weapons on display with Jaime. Her discomfort about sweating too much forgotten. _Ah the joy of someone sharing your interest._

They are in their own bubble debating the Long Night when someone clears their throat from behind them.

“Margy!” Brienne exclaims once she turns around.

“Seems you guys are getting along swimmingly,” she says with a hint of amusement. Before Brienne could answer, “Ah Margaery, it’s always a pleasure seeing you,” Jaime interjects.

“This museum tour is such a great idea. Brienne and I are enjoying ourselves so much. I never get the time to just linger around museums in King’s Landing,” he waves his hand airily.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re enjoying yourselves especially Brienne.”

Brienne narrows her eyes at her. _What is she playing at?_

“Well don’t let me get in between your discussion, Jaime, Brienne.” She left not without giving Brienne a cheeky wink.

  
  


As the tour draws to a close, Jaime is glad he spent the day with Brienne. He couldn’t have asked for a better person to get drunk and walk around a museum with. Her sometimes dour attitude really balances the alcohol consumed.

Just before parting ways in the evening, Jaime turns to Brienne to tell her how glad he was and to thank her for enduring his historical prattles. Brienne however had spotted Renly and Loras walking hand in hand back to the hotel rooms. They are walking towards the sunset and their silhouette shows them laughing and sharing a kiss.

A wistful look comes onto Brienne’s face. Suddenly he didn’t know what to say to her. He couldn’t exactly be a shoulder to cry on, he’s not exactly stable himself.

Despite her flat white blonde hair plastered to her forehead, if she wants to cry on his shoulder, he thinks he’ll let her.


End file.
